Ruby and Oscar have known each other for years but never told each other how they felt. Oscar plans to but his plans fail every time. Will he ever let the flower of his dreams know his feelings? Yang and Blake are also hiding their relationship from...
I'm just mad because now the situation went from me and Oscar not telling everyone until we could put a plan together, and now we can't tell anyone, or else I'll die.
Yang's POV:
Knock knock knock
Oscar opened his door and looked surprised to see I was there.
"Hey Oscar," I said, trying to make my way into his room, "I need to ta-"
Ruby was playing on her scroll while sitting on his bed with a blissfully happy look, which turned into shock when she saw me.
"Uh, Ruby," I scratched my head, "what are you doing in Oscar's room?"
"Uh, Oscar and I were...planning on...thinking of training regimens?"
"Eh yea," chimed Oscar, "we know Scratchclaw is out there, and I'm planning on training with Weiss and Winter soon, so we were thinking of possible ways to train. You know cuz I have Ozpin's cane while you guys have your multi-functional weapons."
"So why are you talking to Ruby and not Weiss or Winter?" I asked, leaning against the door frame.
"Well, I uh...I was talking to Ruby a few days ago and was about to tell her about my...scars and Scratchclaw, but something happened, and I never got the chance. So she came to see me now that I've told you guys and blew up at Harriet."
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"Oh, Yea, that," I remembered how his arm looked again and glanced at it, "I'm sorry about what happened to you, and I hope you can overcome this. I also know what it's like to be hurt by someone and have that fear linger over you," I held up my prosthetic, "I promise you'll get through this. And you don't have to rely on Weiss and Winter alone. We're all here for you, Oscar; we're your friends."
"Thanks, Yang. I want to be confident that I can beat him, so I plan to train extra hard."
"Cool, cool, hope it works out for you."
I hesitated and stayed in the door for a while.
"Hey, is something wrong?" Ruby asked worriedly.
"No, it's nothing," o said, trying not to sound embarrassed, "It's just...Oscar, can I see your scars again?"
"Uh yea, sure," Oscar began rolling up his sleeve, showing me the scars again. I flinched at the sight of them.
"Can-can I touch them?"
"Sure."
I brushed my fingertips over them with my prosthesis thinking about what could've been. How Oscar could've ended up like me. I remember when I lost my arm and how my hands would shake from my PTSD; Oscar might have felt the same way.
